


don't let me down (keep me in trouble)

by elysiumwaits



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Car Sex, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, F/F, Female Billy Hargrove, Female Billy Hargrove/Female Steve Harrington, Female Steve Harrington, Multiple Orgasms, Name-Calling, Orgasm Delay, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Self-Indulgent, Semi-Public Sex, Under-negotiated Kink, but mostly kinky, this is surprisingly soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:01:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22691437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elysiumwaits/pseuds/elysiumwaits
Summary: It's three days until Stevie and Billie leave for California, and Stevie accidentally lets something slip while they're out alone at the quarry.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 29
Kudos: 299
Collections: Harringrove Week of Love





	don't let me down (keep me in trouble)

**Author's Note:**

> Uh. Sometimes you want to write important things, sometimes people post really damn good images of femslash Harringrove art and you wind up writing fem!Harringrove fucking on the hood of the Camaro instead. 
> 
> Just me, staring into the abyss thinking, "Hm, why am I writing fem!Harringrove with my specific kink of femslash and daddy kink?" And what the abyss answered back was, "Well, it's not gonna write itself." This was supposed to be 1200 words. It is, obviously, not 1200 words. 
> 
> Written for Harringrove Week of Love, for the prompt "Car Sex." I guess it would also fit "accidental confession" though.
> 
> Title is from "Close To Me" by Ellie Goulding, Diplo, and Swae Lee.

The quarry is deserted. Everyone in town has something better to do on a Saturday night in early August, when the muggy, oppressive heat is thick in the air. School's going to start soon, so the high school kids are all getting drunk in someone's backyard, or at the drive-in, or at the pool that Billie works at during the day. Worked at, past tense.

Stevie's out of high school, has been for a year. Billie is now, too, graduated in May, and the summer is coming to an end. 

"Fuck," Billie swears. She's close already, got her fingers tangled in Stevie's hair despite the hairspray, is rocking her hips down into Stevie's face like she doesn't give a flying fuck about the feel of the Camaro's hood against her back. She might not, she's still wearing most of her clothes. Or at least they're on her body - she's dressed except for the panties on the ground and that jean miniskirt that Stevie loves pushed up around her hips. The plaid flannel shirt she'd been wearing over her bra, unbuttoned and ends tied together like Daisy Duke, is open and falling around her, long now that it's not knotted at the bottom. "Fuck, baby, you're so good, just like that. Give me a finger, Stevie, you know how I - oh _fuck_." 

Stevie likes the sting in her scalp when Billie pulls her hair. She likes taste of Billie on her tongue, the way that Billie trims the hair there so it's short but not gone completely. She _loves_ the little gasping breaths that Billie makes when she's closing in on her first orgasm of the night, loves how wet she gets when Stevie gets a finger in her. Stevie keeps her nails trimmed these days, instead of the claws that she used to wear, because she loves it so much.

Loves Billie so much.

They're leaving for California in three days. putting boxes into a moving truck and getting out of Indiana while they can. Stevie's been saving money for a year, and Billie's been working where she can. Stevie used to be afraid that Billie would leave without her, just pack up and go - she's got friends in Cali, people that Stevie doesn't have, places she can go. But in three days, they're leaving _together_.

Stevie's terrified and excited in equal measures. 

Stevie licks her way into Billie's folds, pumps two of her fingers in slow like Billie likes, curls them and _presses_ into that spot that makes Billie shout and yank on her hair. It's when she shifts a little, though, drags her tongue up to kitten-lick at Billie's clit, that Billie grinds her hips and gasps out her name, keeps Stevie there while she comes so that she can ride the sensation out. 

They've been together for a year and some change now, and Stevie knows to gentle Billie down after the first orgasm, not to pull away until Billie's good and ready. She stays where she is, keeps her fingers still and her tongue out as she pants, gravel and dirt wearing holes into the knees of her jeans. 

After a moment, Billie breathes out a long, contented breath and tugs at the mess of Stevie's hair, nudges her back. "God, you're so good to me," she says, dropping her feet to the ground and reaching for Stevie. "Come here, baby girl, I wanna kiss you."

Stevie stands on shaky legs, clean hand going to fist in Billie's flannel shirt when her legs threaten to let her drop. She's always a little off-kilter afterwards, a little more out of it than she maybe should be, even when she doesn't get off. There's just _something_ about getting Billie off, something about the way that Billie calls her baby and says she's so _good_ , so _perfect_ , everything she wants. Maybe Stevie's a little _too_ into the way that Billie just tells her what she wants Stevie to do, a little too quick to ask how high when Billie tells her to jump. When it comes to sex, anyway. Stevie's not afraid to tell her to shove off about her wardrobe or music taste, but then, Billie's not serious when she's calling Stevie "prom queen" or "princess" these days. 

Stevie kind of likes to hear "princess" now. "Prom queen" doesn't sting anymore, but Stevie doesn't get a little thrill when she hears that one.

Billie tugs her into a kiss before Stevie can wipe her mouth dry, grabs the hand that was just inside her and directs it to curl into the draping sides of the shirt as well. Billie looks _good_ , bright red bra with her breasts spilling out just a little bit because Stevie'd gotten her hands on them earlier before Billie had told her to get on her knees, the flush of her skin that travels down her neck to paint her chest. It distracts her, just a little, until Billie's _actually_ kissing her, tongue swiping across her lips with soft little moan that Stevie's not sure she meant to make.

Maybe the Stevie of two years ago would have been a little appalled at the idea of how much Billie likes the taste of herself on Stevie's lips. But, then, the Stevie of two years ago was trying very hard to pretend she wasn't into girls at all, and the Stevie of two years ago had a "promising, bright future" as a trophy wife ahead of her, so really, the Stevie of now wins out. And besides, Stevie's into it too, more than she should be, more than she ever thought she could be. There's something satisfying about the way that Billie kisses her deep, licking her way in like she's trying to chase the taste. 

Billie breaks the kiss, tugs Stevie's lower lip between her teeth in a gentle bite as she pulls away. She's got one hand in Stevie's hair and the other cupped on Stevie's jaw, pulling her down that whole inch and a half that Stevie has on her in height. "What do you want, baby?" she murmurs, and nips at Stevie's lips again when she tries to close the distance and Billie's hands stop her short. "You want me to fuck you?"

"Billie," Stevie whines, and Billie's grip eases on her hair a little now that Stevie's not pulling against it to try and get closer. "Please." It's not... she's not _good_ at the whole dirty talk thing like Billie is, goes bright red and stutters her way through every time she tries. And she _has_ tried, it just seems like it all sounds silly coming from her. Even when Billie's said the same thing hundreds of times - when Billie says that kind of stuff, it sounds sexy. When Stevie says that kind of stuff, she thinks it sounds ridiculous.

But Billie's clocked onto the fact that Stevie likes the little thrill of embarrassment she gets, and likes that Billie likes it even more. So Billie just clicks her tongue and leans in close, eyes hooded and lips so, so red from the lipstick that's now all over Stevie's mouth, too. "No, baby girl, you gotta tell me what you want. Use your words."

There's a lot that Stevie will do just because Billie told her to. This is probably top of the list. It still takes her a moment. "I want you to fuck me," she says, soft. 

Sometimes, Billie gets a little mean about it, narrows her eyes and smirks and tells Stevie to speak up, ask nicely, beg pretty if she wants it. Stevie does, shouts and begs and cries if that's what Billie wants, because there's no one else around when Billie pushes her like that, because Stevie _likes_ it when Billie pushes her, gets wet from it, wants it even if she doesn't want to admit that she wants it. Can't admit it, really, not yet. 

Billie's not feeling like pushing tonight, though. Or rather, Billie knows that Stevie doesn't _need_ that kind of push tonight, knows that Stevie's feeling a little off-kilter and nervous. She has to - Billie always knows, says that Stevie wears her emotions on her sleeve now that Billie knows to look for them. The smile that she gives Stevie is still dirty, but it's soft around the edges. The hand that Billie's got in her hair gentles, too, and she brushes some stray strands from where they've stuck to Stevie's cheek in the heat and sweat.

"You're so sweet for me," Billie says, sultry in a way that's got nothing to do with the humidity of an August night. "God, you're so fucking good, baby girl."

She drops the hand that had been holding Stevie's cheek, dragging it down Stevie's chest to where her jeans are already unbuttoned from when they were making out in the front seat before it got too hot. Stevie's missing her shirt, even if her bra is still on. She should probably care more about that. It's hard to think straight when Billie's got one hand wiggling its way into Stevie's underwear though. 

"Hold on to me, honey," Billie says.

Stevie will care about it later. Maybe. Right now, she settles for clutching at Billie's shoulders and spreading her legs a little, for catching her lip between her teeth so she doesn't make a sound. The Camaro rocks a little as Billie shifts, still leaning against it, and gets two of her fingers just barely beyond where Stevie wants them. She kind of wishes they were in a bed, or even just in the backseat. Kind of doesn't care.

"God, Stevie, you're so wet," Billie murmurs, presses her lips nice and close to Stevie's ear in that intimate way Stevie loves. "You get _this wet_ just from eating me out?" Stevie does, Billie knows she does, and must be feeling a little mean after all because she says, "What a fucking _slut_ , baby." 

Stevie gasps as Billie tugs at her hair, fingers slipping along her folds. Teasing, but not delving in, not the way that Stevie desperately wants them to. She is for Billie, wants everything Billie wants to give her and is more than willing to beg for it if Billie pushes her just right. 

She can get off like this, is the thing, from the slow little rhythm Billie's rubbing into her clit. She can come from the teasing little touches, but it takes a long, frustrating time. She doesn't _want_ to come like that, even if the orgasm is always worth it in the end, and for a little bit, when Billie speeds up and adds a little pressure, she thinks she won't have to. Stevie thinks that Billie's just going to get her off like this, with quick, firm rubs under her panties, and then maybe put her in the backseat to give her the fucking she _really_ wants.

It's only when she's rocking her hips, fingernails digging into the skin of Billie's shoulders through the fabric of her shirt, that Stevie realizes what Billie's really got planned. " _No_!" she cries out as Billie stops, and pulls her fingers away, stimulation going from perfect to not-enough in one devastating second. In a moment of desperation, Stevie lets go of Billie's shoulder and tries to knock Billie's hand out of the way.

"Oh, no, you don't," Billie says, yanks on Stevie's hair in quick, electric punishment. "This pretty cunt is all mine, isn't it, baby?"

Stevie grips at Billie's shoulder and squeezes her eyes shut. She kind of wants to cry about it if she's being honest. Sometimes she does. Sometimes she cries and begs when Billie's got her spread out on the sheets and won't let her come, takes her to the edge over and over. She always feels a little better about everything after that kind of earth-shattering orgasm, though, so maybe she _does_ need Billie to be a little mean tonight after all. 

After a moment, when she's still heady with it but not as close, she opens her eyes and finds Billie watching, electric blue eyes that Stevie can get lost in, bright and warm. "There she is," Billie says, smirks all _fond,_ and slides her fingers just barely further. "You gonna be good for me, baby girl?"

"Yes," Stevie breathes out, tries to rock her hips forward. She doesn't know how she's supposed to stay standing for this. "Billie, _please._ "

"I'll get you there when I damn well please, Stevie." A _tap_ shouldn't shoot through Stevie like an electric shock, but it does, quick and strong. Stevie lets out a surprised sound, a little breathy moan like she's in some kind of porn movie, and Billie grins. "You know I love to hear you. Ask me nicely, baby, be my good girl."

Stevie's brain short-circuits at that. It's nothing she hasn't heard before, Billie's called her that plenty of times. But maybe there's something in Stevie that _reacts_ in a way that she's never expected, because it sends tendrils of little, shocking thrills through her. And maybe there's been an idea in the back of Stevie's mind for a _while_ now, just a tiny seed planted by something she saw in passing on a channel in the backroom of the video store when she was picking up an application. Something that's been there, in the deepest, darkest corners of her fantasies, that she never intended to let out.

They're going to California in _three days_ , and Stevie's anxious, and terrified, and so excited she can't contain herself. She's so in love, she desperately wants to come. All of these factors add up to one little gasped out word that slips out before she can catch it, from somewhere very deep. 

" _Daddy,_ please!"

Billie freezes. Stevie almost doesn't understand for a moment, a very long moment, until her brain catches up with her mouth. She feels her cheeks heat with a mortified blush, eyes going wide. She doesn't know what that look on Billie's face is, and Billie doesn't fight her when she lets go of Billie's shoulders to cover her face. 

She can't say _anything_. She can't get the words out, at least not until Billie's pulling her hand from Stevie's underwear. "Wait!" she says in a panicked rush, uncovering her face to grab at Billie's shoulders. "Billie, wait, please, I didn't - it just _slipped out,_ I'm sorry!" Billie's still watching her with that _look_ , sharp eyes and unreadable expression. Her cheeks are flushed, and her tongue darts out to lick at her lip as she listens to Stevie stumble over her words. "I'm sorry," Stevie says again, heart seizing in her chest. "I'm sorry, Billie, I'm-"

There's a tug on her hair, sharp, and it stops her mid-apology as she realizes that Billie's still got a hold on her. "Oh, sweetheart," Billie says, as she _pulls_ , drags Stevie's head back so that her neck is curved. Billie's hand is still on Stevie's stomach, fingertips warm and wet against her skin as Billie splays her palm flat. "Oh, Stevie, _baby._ I can be Daddy, I would _love_ to be Daddy."

Billie's arm goes around her waist as she takes her weight off the car, and Stevie's still trying to process when Billie gets them turned around, gets Stevie bent over the hood and Stevie's hands flat on the blue paint. It's a split-second kind of thing, or maybe Stevie's just slow in getting with it, because the next thing she knows, she's bare-assed out in the open, Billie determinedly getting her jeans and panties down around her ankles. 

"Fuck, you don't know what you do to me," Billie mutters, kisses the base of Stevie's spine when she stands again. 

Stevie manages to find her voice when Billie's standing again. She should _care_ about being practically naked out at the quarry, where anyone could see. Her brain is reeling, though, thoughts firing a mile a minute as her mind tries to catch up to this turn of events. "Billie," she chokes out, tries to turn her head to look over her shoulder.

The crack of a palm against her ass is startling and loud. The sting follows, and Stevie keens as she tries to dig her fingers into the unforgiving metal of the Camaro's hood. _Fuck_ , fuck, they don't do the spanking thing often, but Stevie _loves it_ , doesn't know how to _ask_ for it, should have known she wouldn't have to.

"What do you call me?" And fuck, Stevie's heard Billie's sex-voice but she's never heard _that_ , that deep, rolling purr. 

That's it. 

Stevie's done for, she's making her bed in this handbasket to hell.

" _Daddy_ ," she moans, and promptly gives up caring about being embarrassed altogether when she finally gets a finger in her pussy in reward.

Billie lets out a breathless laugh. "You are a fucking revelation," she says, softly, like she's talking to herself. Then, louder, in that bedroom purr that Stevie's never going to get enough of now, says, "You want Daddy to fuck you, baby? Daddy will fuck you if you ask her nicely."

There's still one finger, too slow and too gentle, pumping in and out of her. Stevie rocks back, trying to get more. "Please, Daddy," she gasps out. She feels like she can't get enough air and doesn't _care._ She needs Billie to fuck her more than she needs to breathe right now.

"Good girl," Billie says. "So wet for me, baby, so good."

Stevie's legs shake when Billie gets a second finger, and then a third into her, arms giving out just enough that she's goes down onto her elbows over the Camaro. She doesn't want gentle, doesn't want easy, and Billie seems to know it. The pace she sets is quick and hard, until Stevie's letting out loud moans that she can't fight back, sobs of overwhelming pleasure. Billie's so good to her, so fucking good, keeps up a litany of praise and pet names and dirty talk, mixes the "So perfect, Stevie" phrases with things like "Take it so well, don't you, made to be fucked just like this, like the whore you are, huh?"

When Stevie comes the first time, she cries out, " _Billie_ ," like she's dying, and she might be. When Billie starts to slow, Stevie sobs again, begs with a, "Daddy, _please!"_ She can't bear the thought of Billie stopping now, it's not _enough_ , one orgasm isn't enough yet. So Billie works her through another and another, bent over and scrabbling at the Camaro. Or maybe it's the same one, just drawn out into crests and peaks, Stevie doesn't know. 

She kind of flies with it, she thinks, feels like she would drift away like a balloon if it weren't for the warmth of Billie's hand on her back. 

When Billie finally eases her back down and carefully pulls her fingers out, Stevie's slumped against the car and panting. She feels like her legs won't hold her, even though she knows she should move. When she tries to push herself up, Billie shushes her, gets her panties carefully pulled up and her pants back around her hips. Only then does she let Stevie stand, gets her t-shirt back over her head and helps Stevie get her arms through, and then Billie's carefully leading Stevie to the passenger's side and bundling her into the car.

It's sweet how Billie buckles her in and rolls the window down part of the way for her. 

Stevie dozes off as they drive, listens to the rock music playing through the stereo and lets the wind from the drive lull her. She must really fall asleep, because the next thing she knows, her door is opening in the driveway of the dark Harrington house, and Billie's trying to coax her out. By the time they get to the front door, Stevie's feeling a little more steady, and she's more or less awake when they make it upstairs and into the shower.

"Oh my god," is what she says when the embarrassment finally creeps in around the edges of a _really good_ orgasm or three. Four? She's not sure. "Oh my god, Billie." Billie's washing her hair for her, and Stevie's still leaning against the wall of the shower. She's mortified but smiling, and the mortification slowly creeps away again as Billie laughs, loud and happy. _"Oh_ my _god_."

"You can call me Billie." And really, she should have expected that reply. "Or Daddy, I guess, depending on your mood." Stevie whines, presses her face to the wall to hide the smile she can't stop from spreading across her face. Billie nudges her, peppers her shoulders and neck with kisses until Stevie gives in and turns around for a real kiss, out of the spray. Before Stevie can get close enough, though, Billie stops her just barely away. "You," she says, "are the most perfect person in the world, and I can't wait to spend the rest of my life corrupting you."

"You're a terrible influence, and I love you," Stevie replies, and Billie laughs again, as bright as the California sun.


End file.
